


The Vacation Stories

by delphia2000



Category: Kung Fu: The Legend Continues
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-16
Updated: 2009-11-16
Packaged: 2017-10-03 03:11:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delphia2000/pseuds/delphia2000





	The Vacation Stories

Part 1  
If I Were Going...

"Okay, listen up," roared Strenlich as he waved a file towards the bullpen, "It's that time of year again."

"Peter's annual haircut?" quipped Mary Margaret.

"Whether he needs it or not," added Blake.

"Very funny," muttered Caine, "You try finding a decent barber in this town."

"Could use the Chief's," suggested Jody.

"I do this myself," Strenlich informed them, "Razors in the hands of strangers make me nervous. I'm talking about vacation plans. This year we're trying something new. First come, first served. No seniority preference. If you know when and where, get it blocked out on this calendar pronto. It'll be posted on the bulletin board for the next two weeks. You aren't signed up by then, I'll assign you a time."

There was a gentle murmur that sounded like a minor mutiny to which Strenlich answered, "Hey, this was not my idea. If I had my way, you sissies would work until you dropped. Then you could take your vacations in County Hospital."

"Peter already does," came a muffled retort from some place Peter couldn't see as he stood to look.

"Hey!" he protested, "It's not my fault. Some of us are willing to put themselves on the line more than others."

"And some of you are hotshots who need to learn to duck," came a strong, authoritive voice.

Peter whirled around to see Captain Simms leaning in the door to her office, which she'd opened so quietly no one had noticed. "This is my idea," she told the group as she straightened up, "While I appreciate the concept that those who work hardest should reap the rewards of their efforts, we are still a team and I think this is something that, as a team, you can come to some agreement on your own. If there is a dissention on some particular time, talk it out. You all seem to be respectful of each other's needs. If you can't agree, the Chief will be in charge of final decisions, but I'm betting there won't be any problems."

"Especially not if the Chief is making the decisions," put in Mary Margaret with a smile.

"I'll be choosing who takes my responsibilities while I'm on vacation, too," Strenlich informed them, his own smile as broad, "so be careful how you talk about me behind my back. I have long ears and an even longer memory."

Simms gave him a brief smile. "Put me down for the first two weeks of October, Chief. I've already got tickets for two Broadway openings that first week."

"The Big Apple, eh, Captain," Peter commented.

"Beaches and bikini's aren't my style," she commented with a wry grin, "I'll take a little cultural relaxation. What about you, Caine? I seem to remember hearing about a fishing trip with your father that was cut short?"

"Ah, yeah, that's about the size of it. I'd rather not tempt fate this time around. Actually, I was thinking about taking my Pop to Walt Disney World."

"That sounds like more fun than I'll be having," Jody said. "My folks have arranged for a big family reunion out at my Granddad's farm. I'll be up to my armpits in cousins and cow pies."

"At least you know them. Kelly's dragging me off to meet her family," mourned Strenlich. "I never thought I'd have to 'meet the parents' at this age."

"I'll be visiting my folks too, however, I'll be meeting prospective brides…not my idea," sighed Chin. "My mother told me they are having a party in my honor, but what that really means is that they'll be trotting out every available female they know in hopes of pushing me into a relationship."

"Come to think of it, my folks will probably do the same for me," said Jody. "Roger, want to blow your folks off and run away to Bermuda with me? Strictly platonic, of course."

"Hey, that's not a bad idea. I always wanted to see the Caribbean. How do you feel about St. Croix?"

"Suppose Kermit will be looking for Atlantis this year?" suggested Mary Margaret.

"He hates diving," Blake put in. "I know where he's going, but he'd kill me if I said anything...."

**************************************************************  
Part 2  
Vacation Party

Peter opened the door to find Blake cradling a laptop computer like a baby to his chest. "You're late. Come on in. The coffee's fresh."

He pulled the door further open and stepped aside to make entry room. "Thanks, Peter," Blake nodded as he slipped in. "Sorry, I was waiting for something to arrive."

"Blake!" his co-workers greeted him simultaneously.

He stopped with an amused scan around the room. "If my name were Norm, this would sound like an episode of 'Cheers.'"

"Well, we missed you," Mary Margaret assured him, helping him off with his coat. "You've missed all the fun. We've been passing around our vacation albums. Jody even has pictures of nude bathers."

She handed off the coat to Peter and asked if she could get him a drink. "The coffee will be fine," he thanked her. "Nudes, Jody? In the Heartland?"

"They were the ducks on my Gran's farm," Jody assured him. "Donald Duck never wore pants in the cartoons either, you know. Skalany seems to be obsessed with the subject."

"That isn't Kermit's laptop you have there, is it?" asked Broderick.

"It is."

"Uh oh, someone's going to get it," teased Chin.

"Not if you don't tell," Blake suggested.

"Don't worry. I'd be too scared he'd shoot the messenger too," Chin laughed.

"Come to think of it, I think I need everyone to swear they won't tell Kermit," Blake said with a sly look. "Everyone raise their right hands and swear."

"Oh, come on, Blake…" Strenlich began to protest.

"Swear. Or I don't show you my vacation picture."

"It's on the computer?" asked Peter.

Blake nodded. "You've got my word," Peter told him. "Cross my heart. I'm still curious about that tan you're sporting…and I'm counting on some nude bathers."

Blake grinned. "Come to think of it, I do think there's a nude or two in the shot."

One by one they all swore and gathered around as Blake set up the laptop on the table and began to boot it up.

"Most of you don't know it, but besides my technical know-how, I'm also trained in engineering. For the past few months, I've been working on some plans. I belong to a group who likes to take on…projects. Projects in third world countries."

"We know you did mercenary work with Blaisdell, Blake. Does this mean you're still doing some on the side?" Mary Margaret asked.

"I'm not sure I should be listening to one of my detectives talking about moonlighting," Captain Simms put in as she leaned in to look at the screen.

"It's not that kind of work," Blake assured her, "And it's strictly on my own time. I've been working on designing a water well for a small village in Africa. This is Corrogocho in Kenya and they just finished the well today."

A full color photograph filled the screen as Blake leaned back and crossed his arms with a satisfied smile. The scene showed a large group of people gathered around what looked like a small, rock-walled pool. To one side was an old-fashioned pump where several children held onto the handle, laughing as they swung from it. It looked as if the entire village were there, from the hunched-over elders to babies in slings at their mother's breasts. Goats, dogs and even a chicken or two had also joined in the group. Sprinkled through the crowd was an occasional Caucasian face, apparently part of Blake's team.

"It's not fancy, but if the geo survey team is right, it won't run dry on them even in high summer," Blake said proudly.

"Blake, you are a wonder," murmured Simms. "I can't imagine that Kermit would mind your borrowing his laptop to show us this."

"No?" Blake asked. "Take a closer look at that picture, Captain."

"Oh my…look!" shouted Mary Margaret, as she stabbed an accusing finger to one side of the screen.

There in the crowd was an unmistakable streak of white through wavy dark hair, shadowy sunglasses and the glare of bright sunlight off a great wedge of nose. He was dressed in fatigues stained with sweat and probably something from the bare-bottomed baby he held. At his knees, two smiling tykes clung and a third peeked out from under his free arm.

"So, now you know where I spent my two weeks," Blake said as he began to shut the computer down. "And where someone else spent his two weeks and why I don't want it to go any further than this room."

"But, Blake, it's such a fantastic thing and …" Mary Margaret began.

"No, Skalany. Not a word," he admonished.

"But…"

"Mary Margaret, say anything, and I'll be forced to terminate your existence."

"First you steal his laptop and now his lines. Sunglasses next?" teased Peter.

"So, what did you have in mind, Blake? Were you going to bug her to death? " asked Chin.

"Too late, her mother already does that," answered Jody.

Blake's answer had the ring of finality about it. "Not a word from any of you or I will be selling your life stories to the National Enquirer. I have it all on tape; I know everything there is to know about all you and what I don't know, I can make up and it will include illegitimate alien babies, I promise you!"

****************************************************************

Part 3  
Paying the Piper

"All right, who used my laptop?"

Every person in the bullpen turned in unison to gaze at Chief Strenlich. "Three minutes, 13 seconds," he announced, looking up from his watch.

"That's me!" crowed Jody as she strutted from her desk to where Sgt. Broderick stood holding a clipboard and a wad of neatly folded bills.

"That's what I get," he told her woefully as he handed over the cash, "for over-estimating his paranoia."

"The man may not trust his underwear, but the laptop still comes second to the Monster Machine on his desk," she smirked, counting bills with a dampened finger.

"Chin was in his way. He had to take time to step around him," Peter pointed out. "If it was deliberate, and I'm not saying it was…but if it was, then we're due a few seconds handicap for delay of game."

"Hey," Chin protested, "I had the 2 minutes spot, so delaying him was certainly not to my benefit. It was purely by accident I ran out of coffee right at that moment."

"Excuse me!" roared Kermit. He strode out into the middle of the bullpen, hands on hips as he slowly leveled his most malevolent glare from one co-worker to the next. "Does anyone mind telling me why everyone keeps talking about me as if I'm not here? Am I back from my vacation or am I still lying on a beach, sound asleep in the sun and having a bad dream? Have I been so lax about education regarding the dangers of laying hands on my computer that someone not only feels the need to risk his life, you all risk destruction for the low probability of winning an office pool betting how long it would take me to discover this offense?"

"That tan came from the beach?" asked Mary Margaret. "Which one?"

Peter elbowed her, causing a "What? What did I say?" from her.

"Sorry, Kermit. You're right; this is unforgivably rude of us. We seem to have forgotten our manners this morning, haven't we?" Captain Simms asked, to the room in general, as she walked slowly from her office to face her fuming employee. She took a mirrored stance, hands on her hips, but with a touch more authority than his. "Let's start again. Good morning. Welcome back, Kermit."

He looked for a second as if he were about to explode, but thought better of it. Dropping the stance like a tomcat out-classed by the reigning top cat, he muttered, "Good morning, Captain."

Still keeping the dignified attitude, she relaxed her posture to a cross-armed, yet, no-nonsense pose. "I take it you found something amiss in your office?" she asked.

"A mystery, Captain. Someone was using my laptop, not the department's work unit. My personal computer. MY laptop."

"When you chose to keep personal effects in your workplace, you run the risk of people making use of them," she pointed out briskly.

"It's a police station, Captain. I thought it would be safer here while I was out of town."

"Has it been damaged?"

He shrugged. "Not that I can tell."

"You're our resident expert, Detective; you should know. Lost data?"

The 'expert' comment apparently stung though as he answered, "No. Nothing lost. Nothing damaged, except perhaps a graze to my pride and a major incursion into my privacy."

"In that case, Detective, I take it there's no need to file a damage report. Since you and I both trust and respect the members of this team, perhaps the guilty party will contact you privately to apologize for invading your privacy. We do know how you value that. However tempted you may be to shoot them all and let God sort it out later, I need a full crew today. Crime did not take a vacation and your work has been piling up. Do you get my drift?"

"I'll be in my office, working, should anyone feel the need to unburden their soul."

There was no doubt in anyone's mind that it was a well-considered and dignified retreat as Kermit affected his usual rolling gait and strolled back to his office, closing the door carefully behind him.

Simms looked carefully around the room. "The pool was a bit over the top, don't you think?"

They could see traces of amusement in her eyes and in the corners of her almost-smile. Broderick broke out in a chuckle. "Sorry, Captain. It was my idea and it's cost me my lunch money for the week."

"My money would have been on one minute twenty had anyone bothered to ask me," Simms confided ruefully. "I have some cottage cheese for lunch I insist you share, Sergeant, as additional punishment for the oversight. I suggest, now that the fun is over, we should all treat Kermit with the same respect as ever."

"Probably a wise idea," Blake spoke up finally, having been extremely silent and almost invisible through the entire incident. Looking around the room at his co-workers, he advised, "No matter what we think of him now, I don't know a single one of Kermit's past…uh, acquaintances, who would ever underestimate him. Trust me, he hasn't mellowed that much."

Blake sincerely hoped his words had the right sobering effect. He knew Kermit would see the knowledge of his charity work as more than loss of privacy. It would be loss of 'face;' the face of a stone cold killer that had saved his and many other lives in the past.

"Let's get back to work, people," Simms ordered as she went back to her office.

***

Broderick had finally left, locking the front door behind him when Blake picked up his coffee cup and headed for Kermit's office. He didn't bother to knock. That was a nicety he observed within sight of his colleagues; it wasn't necessary when he was alone with Griffin.

"It was me," he said without preamble, sitting down in what was laughingly called the guest chair; laughable because Kermit made it clear 'guests' were generally an unwelcome nuisance.

Kermit stopped typing and leaned back in his chair. "I know."

"Really?"

"I wrote a guard dog program to allow any use as long as it doesn't compromise the security of the contents. I think I've been here long enough to know the kind of people I work with. However, I should have known what I was in for when I emailed you that picture. Nice touch using my laptop to show it off. The program has an activity log so I know every keystroke made on it. I have your email password, by the way. You could use a new Spam filter."

"So why didn't you call me on it?"

"What, and miss all the apologies? Every single person, with the exception of the Captain, has been in here today, confessing the most creative excuses heard in this precinct since the last mass arrest at that bordello down on Main. Skalany claimed she felt the need to write her mother an email, Chin said he was looking for a web site to translate from Mandarin to Cantonese and Broderick said he was looking for tips on the ponies. Even Caine told me he was playing computer games on it. What I can't understand is why they all felt the need to protect you."

"You know, for someone as smart as you are, sometimes you're really pretty stupid."

The words had popped out before he realized he'd said them. Blake sighed as he saw the shields go up. No one else would have recognized the subtle reaction, with perhaps the exception of Paul Blaisdell. Words from a friend were a far more deadly weapon against the hardened mercenary than any gun in the hand of an enemy; broken trust cut deeper than any knife. "I shouldn't have said that. You aren't stupid by any means, but you've got this all wrong. They weren't protecting me. They were protecting you."

Blake was relieved to see the chill fade as Kermit pondered his words. "Protecting me from what?"

"Embarrassment. They thought you'd be embarrassed if you knew that they knew what a softy you could be. This way we can all pretend you're just that hard-ass you want us to think you are."

"I am that hard-ass, Blake and you know that better than anyone else here. I killed people for a living."

"Merede; pardon my French, Griffin. You may have killed people, but you didn't do it for a living. You did it because it was the right thing to do at the time. Considering your finances, if you did do it for a living, then I'll take back the apology for saying you're stupid. You should have charged a heck of a lot more."

"I have to say this isn't the best apology I've gotten today. Your social skills could use some work, Blake."

"My social skills? This from…." Blake let his rebuttal slide as he saw the corners of Griffin's mouth quirk up. The storm was over; not that he believed for one second that Kermit was ever truly angry with him over this. "Okay, we had our fun and now, you've had yours. Just think about what Paul told you. They're nice people. They want to like you; let them. On second thought, let me update that; they do like you. Let them. Don't be afraid to like them back."

"Paul tell you that?"

Blake stood up. "No. You aren't the only one who knows his way around hardware, remember? I bugged your office the day before you started. Don't stay up all night looking for it."

Kermit gave a short bark of laughter. "You realize this means war."

Blake smirked. "Bring it on. I have more pictures of you."

He turned to go, stopping at the door when he heard Kermit say softly, "And I have your email password."

Thinking swiftly, he offered, "Make you a deal. You install that Spam filter and I'll tell you where it is. I'll even lose a few of those photos"

"Deal. As for the photos, keep any nudes. I'd like to remember what it was like to be buff in the buff when I'm old and decrepit. Good night, Blake," Kermit agreed as he began to type.

"Kermit?"

"Humm?"

"If you think about it, that well in Corrogocho will probably save at least 10 times the number of lives you've taken. Seems like a good tradeoff to me."

"Think the 'Powers That Be' will take that into consideration?"

Blake smiled. "Oh yeah."

The End


End file.
